Cailan's Cacophony
by juggernaut715
Summary: Follow the tale of Cailan Balaosm, the outcaste Ravenclaw. Dealing with Slytherin and Marauder bullies, making 'friends' with a particular Prince, and wandless magic, silent spells, stealing maps, house elves, burning the library down, making a pensive, self-taught Animagi, McGonagal singing, and demonic transformation. Review, or it'll be discontinued.
1. Chapter 1

Cailan ducked. The tiny flask smashed into the wall behind where his head had been less than a moment ago. Another one came dangerously close to where his head was _now,_ but a swift roll to the side got him out of the way fast enough.

"Can't run forever, little _bird!_" A sneering voice chided, accompanied by several others laughing. More flasks, and more dodging and ducking and weaving around the classroom. Cailan would have had an award for his dodging, if there was some competition for it. He took residence behind a desk and muttered a quiet spell under his breath, his hand lighting up with blue flames. He couldn't help but let a smirk appear on his face. The Slytherin might be of the cunning and pack like variety, but Ravenclaw's like Cailan were lone wolves, their own men or women. A bookworm through and through, Cailan fit the bill of a typical library-stoked nerd-but at the same time, he was most definitely _not_ typical.

A devious streak ran so deep through his psyche that he spent a full hour arguing with the sorting hat whether he should be in Slytherin or Ravenclaw.

But not in an evil way. He was articulate, not so much fixated on acquiring knowledge as his fellow Claws were, but more on the practicality and the more outcaste practices his studies could wield. It was for this reason that he was the odd one out, the true shunned one of the school, even by his own house. And also the reason he was excelling in wandless magic, aside from his unusual heritage from his father. With one flick of his hand he sent a spear of blue flames towards the group of green robes, and they screamed and dispersed.

"He's using that fancy seventh year magic again!" He heard one of them shout, and he could only roll his eyes. They never seemed to catch that he was doing magic without a wand, only that it was high level magic. And considering he was a seventh year, it wasn't too out of his class to be using _Azurious Tempasura_ in an attempt to fend off his bullies. He shook his hand and the flames dissipated. The grin on his face didn't fade as he flexed his hand. It'd taken him two weeks to learn how to do that spell and not burn his sleeves-everyone had given him odd looks when he'd taken to wearing his robe with one sleeve missing, and now he didn't have to do that anymore.

With a hop in his step he stood up and walked out of the room, everyone already leaving him alone and gone back to their common room. Filch, the caretaker, would probably be lurking the halls. In fact, he was there now, glaring at Cailan like he was the source of all the misery in the world.

"A scuffle in the Potions classroom?" The broom wielding man hissed, his broom shaking slightly. Cailan shrugged.

"I fended them off. I'll help you clean up." Filch grumbled under his breath but reached into his pocket and pulled out another broom. One of the many gifts Dumbledore had given him to aid his caretaking duties; pockets with no limits to the objects they could carry. Multiple broom closets, spare clothes, a few _cats,_ and from what Cailan had seen one day on one of Filch's 'off days', numerous _explosives._ Second broom in hand, Cailan walked back into the room with Filch and began sweeping the broken glass into a substantial pile in the middle of the room.

"Stupid Slytherin, making a mess for me to clean up..." Filch mumbled, brushing along the wall where a significant amount of flasks had impacted.

"We could always set off a stink bomb in their common room again." Cailan suggested absentmindedly from across the room.

"Hn." Filch grunted back. "We'd have to clean it up, though, after."

"Do we really? Could always say that since it was in their common room..." Cailan replied, now a grin widening on his face as he locked eyes with Filch twenty feet away. The groundskeeper, a very reserved and irritable man, did not typically smile. But, at the thought of such vengeance and wonderful torment of the students, he allowed his lips to curl upwards in a cruel, _cruel _grin.

"I believe we could arrange something..." Filch muttered, forcing his lips back down as they finished pushing the broken glass into the pile. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a muggle vacuum cleaner, and flipped the switch, sucking all the shards into it. High durability, maximum suck, the thing was ten times scarier than a Dementor. No, seriously, Cailan would rather face a hooded being of soul sucking kisses than look into the black void of the _vacuum._ He could recall doing so the time he first met Filch.

_Time for a flashback!_

_Cailan wiped the soot off his robes, muttering things that wouldn't make sense to anyone except someone else who'd read the same book he did. And considering that book was restricted to students, the audience was a small one. Half the library was up in smoke, students were running around screaming, Pince, for all her worth, was shooting steady streams of water out of her wand, shrieking things like 'my precious books!' and 'burned to bits, nothing left!' It surprised Cailan that everything, _everything_, was on fire. The spell he'd failed surely wouldn't have lit the other side of the library._

_Amidst the chaos, seemingly showing up in the middle of the flames, was FIlch. Filch, who carried a single broom, and had a tiny, evil looking cat at his leg. _

_"Fire." He muttered. "And in the library too." He seemed rather content with the situation, flames burning all around him and actually catching his shoulder on fire. He didn't seem to care, even as smoke began to come off of him. "I wonder who started it?" He asked aloud, glancing around nonchalantly. Suddenly he was holding the vacuum, and had begun sucking flames into it, walking around slowly, like he didn't really care if any of the books weren't burned._

_His eyes settled on Cailan as he entered the restricted section. His glare had a fire of its own, contrasting with the real one surrounding them._

_"You started the fire, didn't you?" Cailan froze, as much as he could when the bottom of his robes was burning. The tip of the vacuum was an inch from his nose, and he could see into the all-encompassing blackness. It was like having his eyes ripped out of his sockets, just looking at it._

_"Ah-no." Cailan tried, stepping to the side of a large smoldering bookcase that would have crushed him as it fell. Filch didn't seem to notice. "I didn't start the fire." The caretaker just stared at him, then gently scruffled his beard with one hand, absentmindedly vacuuming a few ashes up from the floor. The cat meowed._

_"I didn't start the fire either." He mumbled, his gaze flickering up to Cailan, a moment their eyes locking and truth came to both of them in an instance of almost telepathy. Realization dawned on Cailan; the other side of the library was in flames because..._

_"We didn't start the fire." They both said at the same time. Next thing they knew they were grinning and walking out of the library together, their clothes burning but they couldn't find the capacity to care._

_"How did you _not_ start the fire, Filch?"_

_"I _didn't_ light 'Hogwarts; A History' on fire after soaking it in hippogriff oil and throw it into the History section. What about you, Ravenclaw?"_

_"Cailan. And I _didn't_ mess up _Burtanou Engourgious_ in the restricted section." For the first time, but not the last, Cailan heard Filch chuckle. _

_Flashback complete! Back to the present!_

Filch stuffed the vacuous device back into his pocket and held out a hand for the broom Cailan had, then stuffed that into his pocket as well.

"These scuffles are getting more frequent." He grumbled, walking out of the classroom with Cailan by his side.

"You know how the snakes are. Leak all their venom and they'll just get more of it."

"Just rip the fangs out." Filch said, smacking his broom against the ground, sending a patch of dust into the wall where it would collect for a few weeks until Filch made his rounds with the device of death. "Either way;" He stopped Cailan and fixed him with a serious stare. "I've gotten the next set of books for you." A grin they both knew well appeared on Cailan's face as he held out a hand. Filch reached into his second pocket and pulled out three books, all old, ratty, dusty, and thin. Journals.

"These are the first editions?"

"The originals." Cailan nearly spat out his spittle.

_"The what?"_ Filch nodded, tapping the top book with one finger.

"Had to call in a favor to get them. Not easy to find the original journals of Jules Baccano." With that, the caretaker turned and walked the opposite way down the hall. Cailan couldn't help but laugh, caressing the books in his hands as he made his way back to the room.

* * *

**_Please review!_**


	2. Chapter 2

Being an outcaste of the student population, Cailan wasn't quite welcome in his common room. In fact, every time he went there the whispers started, the uncomfortable silence, the pointed stares, the shunning, and finally, someone up and telling him to 'bugger off.' For this reason he had spoken to Dumbledore and requested a personal room. The old wizen wizard, for reasons Cailan could never quite decipher, was happy to oblige. No questions asked. A room on the third floor, down the hallway and to the left, covered by a portrait of Blank Quixology himself, a man of great magical prowess six hundred years ago.

"Ah, the outcaste returns." Blank said, smiling tenderly down at the tiny boy of 'outcaste' status.

"Afternoon, Quixology. How's the wife?"

"Perfect, as always." The subject was a bit touchy, but Cailan always brought it up. It wasn't necessarily to insult or make Blank uncomfortable, but more to remind Cailan that his excessive use of unorthodox magic could mess things up in the end. Blank's wife was frozen, totally frozen, at the bottom of a lake, a secondary painting of Blank there right above her, so he could go and see her whenever he wished. That was the result of some 'unorthodox' magic.

"Good, good."

"Password, then?"

"The password is whatever I shall choose, and since I've chosen none the choice is up to you, forsooth and for sure, it shall be a deuce and a doozy, unless you've gone and used up the booze." A limerick the two of them had come up with. And, at the same time, the password. The portrait nodded, swinging open, revealing the spartan abode Cailan called home. He had another home, away from school, but that place didn't count for being a _home_ any more than Slytherins were adorably friendly and wanting to be friends with him.

There was no bed, only a desk to the side up against a wall with stacks of paper on it and numerous books stacked around and on top and below and to the side of it. The rest of the room contained only air and other books, the only open space on the floor being that with a blanket and a set of softer, leather back books that Cailan used as a pillow. He immediately dashed towards the desk, hefting stacks of books and papers off and setting them in different places to make the flat space on the table available for use. Then he sat down and placed the three books in front of him.

"Occlumency." He read the title of the first book. It was a journal, but Jules Baccano could be compared to a textbook writer; sections of his journals were published in the archives of the ministry, and all of them were under lock and key; too many secrets and too many fantastic things to be discovered. The other two books were "Animagus" and "Terramorphous." He'd read those later-he was already a well practiced Animagus and had a speedier transformation than most anyone, and he was completely unfamiliar with the term 'Terramorphous."

With one hand he pulled the tiny string on the front of the Occlumency journal off, and gently opened the cover. Pulling out his wand he brought the tip to his head and willed a powerful enchantment into his eyes, one that enhanced his own natural cognitive ability; photographic memory. But with this little enhancement he could do so much more than just remember in perfect clarity. He could enter two planes of thought at once-analyzing what he was recalling and recalling at the same time. The history lectures had ceased being boring because of it; he could spend all his time listening to the drawl while completing his own research in his head.

Oh, it was great to have an Argus Filch around sometimes. The man had lent him books on mental strength and whatnot years ago, in his second year, one year after their first meeting. The spells within those books, woo boy, Cailan would never be such a strong wandless practitioner if it weren't for the mental discipline instilled in him through those books.

Regardless, Cailan began to read. Flipping pages every second he could analyze what was on them with the slightest glance, everything slowly coalescing in his mind as a big factual sheet of data on the subject of Occlumency. It was complete within a few minutes. With gingerly care, he placed the book on a stack in the corner of the room; the 'finished reading' stack. And then he began to overdraw on his brain. Put every bit of the knowledge he'd just learned into practice, building massive shields and walls and portculli around his inner sanctums. More and more shields went up, huge ones made of iron and diamonds, solid steel and titanium, tungsten.

When Cailan opened his eyes again, he had the mental protection of Dumbledore and Voldemort combined. A bit much, sure, but everything he had in his head he held precious, and there was no amount of Legilimens that was going to take _his_ facts away from him.

Resigning himself, for he was quite drained after such a great strain on his brain, he gently lowered himself to the floor, pulled the blanket over himself, and let himself drift off to sleep.

And he dreamed.

_"Come back, mortal!" The great hulking figure snarled, its trunk like arms smacking trees out of it's way. "I'll put you in the bottom of the lake! Just like your greatest grandmother is, by your own greatest grandfather's doing!"_

_"Piss off!" Cailan shouted, only revealing himself long enough to flip his middle finger at the demon. Then he was off, darting through the undergrowth again, the howling rage of the great beast behind him the only thing keeping him going. Like _hell_ he'd let himself be caught by something like _that.

_The trees started thinning, the grass became scarce, and suddenly Cailan was at the edge of a cliff, only rock and stone around him, and a great river at the bottom of the cliff. No doubt that there would be a painful end if he fell; there were massive sharp spikes of stone sticking out of the water. Turning back, Cailan found the demon right in front of him._

_"Oh? Nowhere to run?" It's yellow eyes flickered dangerously, and in a swift motion, Cailan was knocked off the edge._

He woke with a scream.


	3. Chapter 3

The nightmares never stopped, even after all this time. Cailan forced the shields within his mind to resound, resonate, demonstrate how strong they were. It was like a thousand gongs resounding in his head, cracks and war calls as portculli were raised and dropped, steel shields banged against the ground, and diamond stood stolid, silent as the grave. He was safe. Absalom would not find him here, not there, not ever, and he would never intrude within his mind again, thanks to these books.

Pushing off the stone flooring, Cailan cracked his back and then crossed his arms in front of himself, gripping the robe at the waist, and then pulling it off. There was a reason he slept on the ground, no matter how uncomfortable it was, or how it dirtied his robes after. He was used to it. Absalom, the demon, kept him in a room with no bed for six years, the first six years of his life; and since then beds seemed foreign, different, _not_ comfortable. The stones were more of a nice solid grounding, though; they reminded him he was still alive with the pain they caused his joints.

He tossed the robe to the corner of the room, where three other robes lay. "Murgel!" He called. Not a moment later a house elf appeared, one hand against its stomach and another rubbing one of its ears.

"Y-Yes, Mister Balaosm?" Cailan involuntarily twitched at the use of his last name. Absalom, Balaosm, he could never quite escape the monstrosity.

"I've told you a thousand times, Murgel, call me Cailan. And please, fetch me some robes and a new set of clothes." The little elf nodded, disappearing with a blue flash as Cailan pulled off his pants. He'd worn the same pair for two weeks, and they smelled...inadequate. He'd have to bath at some point soon. His shirt was sticking to his skin with the sweat he'd accumulated from running away from bullies and being awake, and he had to peel it off like a damp sock-he had those, too. The last thing he removed, just as a blue flash alerted him to Murgel's return, was his boxers. He placed all these clothes in a pile and set them on the ground, picking up the pile Murgel had brought.

"Thank you, Murgel. If you could seal the bathes later for me, I'd be much obliged. I have to use them myself, as I smell comparable to a hippo." The little elf nodded, a tiny smile appearing on its face. Compared to most of the Masters the elf had its entire life, Cailan was by far the best. He never whipped, never hit, never scolded, only politely asked for a specific task to be completed and actually gave gratitude when that task was completed. And, he had freed Murgel on the first day, by giving him several clothes to wash.

_Flash back, to that past!_

_A blue flash made Cailan jump out of his seat, and he turned to find a small elf standing across the room, looking rather apprehensive of its surroundings._

_"M-Master Balaosm, Master Dumbledore has requested Murgel check up on you." He said, eyes flickering to Cailan for a moment before he stared at the ground, expecting a beating for something or other._

_"Oh? Is that so." Each word made Murgel flinch internally, but after discipline from an auror several years back who _hated_ flinching, he wouldn't do it externally. He expected something to hit him at any moment. "Well, the place is nice enough. I don't need a bed, though...and the book selection is quite exquisite." _

_Murgel looked up, unabashed, confused at the words the eleven year old was using. Also, why wasn't he hitting him? The boy looked smart, a genius even, just after a few moments of observation. Everything about him screamed a natural at...everything. Purple robes. A Ravenclaw. When he moved suddenly Murgel closed his eyes, prepared for the worst._

_"If you could wash those clothes I'd be very grateful. I've been wearing them for three days, and they smell so bad I can't stand it any longer-might want to hold your breath." Murgel opened one eye and found him pointing to a pile of pants and shirts in the corner of the room, a room with far fewer books than in present times. _

_"C-Clothes?" Murgel's eyes opened wide as she stepped forward hesitantly. "Ma-Master is giving Murgel clothes?" The boy's eyes flickered with something Murgel couldn't make out for a moment._

_"I...suppose." He said, looking a bit confused himself. Murgel hobbled over towards the clothes and reached out with one hand, gently putting his palm on the denim of the jeans. It was a sensation he'd never felt before, and one he'd never expected _to_ feel. A tiny smile, the first in all of Murgel's life, appeared on his lips._

_"Murgel is free! Master has given Murgel clothes, so Murgel is free to do as he pleases!" Murgel's brow furrowed with evil intentions as he turned to Cailan. "Murgel doesn't have to obey Master Balaosm any longer!" Cailan, for his part, looked confused. But nothing more._

_"Huh." He said, blinking. Not the reaction Murgel had expected. He'd expected rage, some petty attempt to bend him to the wizards will even after the binding had been broken...but there wasn't any. "Huh." Cailan said again. "Well, alright then." He turned back to his books like nothing had happened, muttering something under his breath, then froze and then turned back to Murgel, who was sort of...dazed._

_"Do you happen to know where I can do the laundry, then?" The question made Murgel's stomach flip._

_"Ma-Mister Balaosm can do his laundry behind the painting with the apples on it." _

_"That so? Alright then, thank you." They stared at each other for a few moments. "Well? You're free aren't you? Get out and do what you want, already." _

_"O-oh." Murgel rubbed his belly, stroking one of his ears. He hadn't thought of what he'd do when he was free, never having the chance. He hesitated, stepping towards the door, but stopping himself, utterly and hopelessly confused as to what he should do._

_"Clueless when it comes to freedom, huh?" The boy from the desk asked, pulling Murgel's gaze back to him. "I was like that too, once, when I escaped from my '_master'_." He spat the last word like it was a curse. "I'd just ran and ran, after falling off a cliff. Still not sure how I survived. I spent three years in the forest, just trying to live another day against wild animals, the only thing I had to prevent my death being a few petty destructive spells and a wooden spear. And then..." He drifted off, not really 'in the room' anymore._

_"M-Mister Balaosm?" Murgel quered, stepping forward. The boy blinked and was back. His brow furrowed._

_"Call me Cailan. I hate my last name." His expression turned thoughtful, and he rubbed his chin like a philosopher would. "Tell you what, Murgel." Murgel never told him he was surprised his name was remembered. "Until you figure out what you want to do, why don't you stay here? Then, whenever you're ready to leave, you can leave. Simple as that."_

_Flash back ending! See you later, sucker!_

Since that point, Murgel had stayed in the broom closet of the room, never opening the door but always flashing into the room with that little blue spark. He still had no idea what he wanted to do. But there was an odd sort of comfort in completing the tiny requests Cailan asked of him. There was always a warm feeling in his feeble chest when those two words were spoken; 'Thank you.' Deep in his heart, he could swear he wanted to stay here, and simply help Cailan with these tiny tasks.

But he'd never say that outloud.

The elf disappeared with the bundle of dirty clothes, along with the robes in the corner, and made plans to seclude the bathes after classes were completed. Cailan pulled a pair of boxers from the pile of fresh clothing and pulled them up his legs, scratching his crotch as he did so. He _really_ needed a bath. Thankfully, a Good-Smelling charm made his scent of testosterone and sweat bearable to himself and those around him, now. After pulling on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that said "Caretaker Almighty" on it, he pulled on a fresh set of purple robes and pulled on his shoes.

He didn't use a bag. No need, anyways, he'd already memorized the textbooks, and there wasn't any particular sentimental reason he felt to carry around extra weight. A slap of his palm on the door and the portrait swung open, Blank muttering a quiet 'good morning' and Cailan returning it just as quietly. There were people in the halls already, and they all flew from him. One or two people stared at him from halfway down the corridor, others looked past him as though he wasn't there.

Five minutes later Cailan was entering the great hall for breakfast. The entire end section of the Ravenclaw table was empty, allowing him to sit down and help himself to as much food as he wanted. A few loud shouts from across the hall pulled his attention away from his rice and beans.

"What's got your panties in a twist, Evans?" A familiar Gryffindor sneered. Cailan knew this one well; he was one of the bullies. Long hair, smelled like a dog, and had a generally wild persona, Sirius Black was not someone Cailan referred to as 'acquaintance.'

_"You idiots._" He heard the sixth year female reply. "You're the cause of my headache. Every time I turn around _you_ are messing with something and blowing something up! Now, tell me, Black, how _exactly_ did a bowl of soup _happen_ to fly across the room just now?" In response Sirius just shrugged, a smirk on his face.

The boys three companions all followed suit, standing right behind him. Lily groaned and walked back to her seat, grumbling to her friends about how terrible men were. Cailan could only agree. At least, when it came to those four. They were worse than the Slytherin, though Lupin wasn't nearly as terrible as the rest, going so far as to help Cailan stand up after a stray blasting hex had caught him in the leg. Pettigrew just followed Sirius and James like they were gods-little praising prick.

Sighing, Cailan went back to eating. The rice and beans were his favorite selection of food to have for breakfast, and they always made his lips curl upwards at the hearty taste. He was so caught up in his own realm of delicious taste that he didn't notice the person sit down across from him until they cleared their throat. Cailan controlled himself, analyzing the situation, continuing to eat for a few moments while his brain worked double time, trying to figure out who this person was and why they were here without looking at them.

It could be a bully, of course. But they never sat down across from him, only whacked his head from behind. A teacher would speak to him from his own side of the table. Having no other choice he slowly raised his gaze and nearly spat his mouth off.

Lupin.

Alone, with none of the other 'marauders' accompanying him. They were all back at the Gryffindor table, watching whatever Lupin was doing. And they were all smiling. Cailan swallowed and cleared his throat, setting his bowl back down on the table and wiping his chin with his sleeve.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked, placing both hands on the table, palms flat. Lupin sent a rather...nervous (?) glance back at his compatriots, before leaning forwards with elbows on the table.

"They wanted me to tell you somethings I'd rather not say. And then whack you upside the head."

"What are you waiting for, then?" Cailan asked, finding it odd Lupin wasn't simply doing what he'd been instructed to do.

"Rather not." He said, shrugging. Cailan's eyebrows rose. Lupin had never been one of the bad ones, even though he _had_ punched him in the gut plenty of times. Those hits were softer than the rest, though. Putting two and sixteen together Cailan came to a conclusion; Lupin didn't like being a bully.

"I see." They stared at each other for a few moments. "Well?"

The question caught Lupin offguard. "W-Well what?"

"Aren't you going to say something to me and whack me upside the head?"

"But-" Cailan cut him off.

"Your 'friends' want you to do it, so do it. It'll get them off your back, and you can go back to your table and relax. Myself, I'd rather it be over and done with. So, please, make haste, and do you worst." The last few words Cailan was grinning, oh so gently leaning forward to make his head more whackable.

"A-ah." Lupin coughed, glancing back at Sirius and the others, who were waving their hands, gesturing a hitting motion and mouthing words that shouldn't be repeated. Lupin turned back to Cailan and rose off his seat, raising a hand. "Y-You're nothing but a damn worm!" With that, he swiped his hand through Cailan's hair, and Cailan over reacted, throwing himself against the table. Cailan made an 'oof' sound, but Lupin caught the blatant wink the Ravenclaw gave him as he walked away.

An odd experience, to say the least. But of course, before Cailan could pick his bowl up once more, another figure approached the table.


	4. Chapter 4

It was no odd sight for Filch to be sitting with the outcaste Ravenclaw. Most of the students left their curious relationship alone, though plenty of rumors circulated, ranging from blackmail on Calian's part to a consensual sexual relationship. Neither were true.

"Morning." Cailan said, holding out a plate to Filch, who had sat down across from him. He grumbled a thank you and took it, piling sour smelling vegetables and putrid urchin-heart onto it. "I've read one of them." He was referring to the journals.

"Worth the tutelage?"

"Of course." They were speaking of the training Calian had been giving Filch since a few weeks after their first meeting. How to use magic, but without using magic with a wand, or the magic that Filch had within himself. Which he had none of. Aside from the unlimited storage space in his pockets from Dumbledore, Filch was squibbly as could be. But under Cailan's watchful eye and many, _many_ hours of practice, Filch could now do something akin to the ghosts floating through walls. Of course, it drew on latent magic in the air, and was very tiring. But it was practical. That was the reason he'd learned it, and the only reason Cailan had taught him.

Practicality was more important than anything else. From the use of the wall-phasing Filch had managed to catch double the amount of student out after hours, clean the halls with greater haste, and find even more secret passageways. Of course, no one but Cailan and Filch knew about this ability. Though both had a sneaking suspicion that the Headmaster knew as well.

"Potatoes. Dreadful things." Argus said, glaring at the golden mash that Cailan brought to his lips.

"Oh? I find them quite delicious. Better than _urchin_ any day." They both snorted at each other's tastes. Urchin was horrifically terrible to _anyone_ but Filch, but he couldn't stand anything that tasted remotely good to Cailan. "So, Argus, any recent nabs worth telling about?" The caretaker shook his head, but then hummed, scratching his chin and looking towards the wall.

"I haven't gotten it yet, but there's something I always see that group of four passing between them. A tiny slip of paper." He held out his hands. "About this big."

"A piece of paper?" Cailan mused, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice and smacking his lips at the tate. "Could be anything. A round robin, perhaps?"

"Or maybe a list of illegal objects they've brought onto school grounds." They stared at each other for a moment.

"I think that's a bit much."

"You said _anything._" Cailan rolled his eyes and took another sip, then another, finishing the glass.

"Well, next time you see it, confiscate it." But Filch wagged a finger, a frown pulling his lips downwards.

"I already have. Thrice." Cailan wasn't seeing the point.

"And?"

"And it's nothing."

"Nothing."

"Absolutely nothing." Filch said, nodding fervently. Cailan pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Then what the hell's got you so excited over it? If it's nothing, it's nothing." Filch stopped nodding.

"It's not nothing." The Ravenclaw resisted the urge to smack his forehead against the table.

"Argus; speak with lucid intentions. What do you mean it's not nothing?" The caretaker scratched his balding head, looking strained.

"It's...nothing, but it's not nothing. The paper's blank."

"Blank."

"Blank. But it always looks like they're reading it, up until it's in my hands. But it folds a whole lot, a lot more paper than it looks." He scrunched his face and held his arms out wide. "Might be this big when unfolded."

Cailan rubbed his face, trying to decipher what the piece of paper could possibly be when Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if you would head to your classrooms; it's nearly 8:30, and I'd rather you aren't late." Filch shrugged and stood up, taking his broom with him. He and Cailan nodded to each other before they separated, one going out the back entrance of the hall, the other going with the flood of students through the main doors.


	5. Chapter 5

As Cailan walked through the door he was shoved to the side, his shoulder colliding with the door so hard he could only imagine the bruise that would form. He glanced to his left; a Slytherin by the name of Buereg Junous, one of the elders of the green robes. He laughed with his friends as they walked on. Cailan stood back up straight, rubbing his arm, and then walked briskly, tapping a painting and going into it. Plenty of people saw, but no one followed; none had enough courage to follow him through his shortcuts around the castle.

He arrived in Transfiguration on the dot, the bell tolling just as he walked in the door. The shortcuts were perfect for avoiding traffic, but they still took a bit of time. McGonagall motioned for them all to take their seats, Cailan included; the professors didn't treat him as badly as the rest, at least not all of them. Though some of them were as unsavory as the Slytherin' the way they docked points for his _existence._

"I would like to begin class by asking you all a question." Several specific Gryffindor's froze as they sat down, but copied everyone elses' quizzical expressions. The Professor leered over them all, staring each individual student in the eyes for a what seemed to be an eternity. "How many of you are interested in acquiring training as an Animagus?" Several specific Gryffindors froze once again. Her gaze flickered towards them and they immediately coughed, looking away. Lupin, however, looked a bit more unsettled than the rest.

"Animagus?" Cailan quered, tapping his chin. "That'd be interesting." The Professor flickered his gaze towards him and Cailan let the grin shine on his face.

"Wouldn't it _indeed._" McGonagall _snarled,_ her lips thinning to tiny lines. It was only a year ago, in Cailan's sixth year, that she had discovered his secret. A secret which she kept, under duress.

_Flashback to the previous! Let's get devious!_

_Four days. Just four days after he'd completely transformed. Now he was experimenting with partial. Two wings, feathered and purple-black, poked out of his shoulder blades as he tried to flap them. Too small-he had to make them bigger, but they were already massive. A Ravenclaw with a devious streak of a snake; the Caduceus. A physical manifestation of the symbol of commerce, a black snake with massive wings. _

_The problem was partially transforming. He'd speculated whether he could simply transform into a snake, and two days after complete transformation he'd managed that. But now, two days after the second, he wasn't getting any closer to just getting _wings. _He was out in the Forbidden Forest, a half a mile from the centaur encampment, and under his favorite tree; a big, unrecognizable one that just loomed over all the others, solid blue, and slightly glowing. _  
_Unknown to him, this was also a specific Deputy Headmistress' favorite place to sing. _

_Sing._

_More like howl like a dying cat. Cailan looked around for a banshee, a dying animal in its final hour, an insane witch-anything other than McGonagall. The words of an old scottish folk song echoed around the clearing as she entered, eyes closed and stepping in time, waving her hands with the melody she failed to portray. The Ravenclaw just covered his ears and stared at her as she walked towards him, though perhaps unaware of him. _

_She spun around, a high note sliding upwards and screeching, then bumped straight into Cailan. Specifically, Cailan's wing. He'd been too shocked by the arrival of the Deputy Headmistress to undo his transformation. Her eyes snapped open at the contact and she leapt back, drawing her wand. When she realized the wing was attached to Cailan she lowered it, her brow furrowing and her mouth forming an 'o.' _

"_What?" She said after a few terribly awkward moments of silence. Cailan was just as confused._

"_What, yourself. What the _hell _was that?" He asked, gesturing towards her._

"_What was what?"_

"_That _shrieking! _It was like everything in the world giving their last dying scream at once, a chorus of pain and agony, a tsunami of exquisite _torture _beating on my eardrums!" The Professor's cheeks gained a slight pink tint, but her lips tightened shut and she flipped her wand towards him._

"_Then what are those?" Cailan glanced at the wing she was pointing to._

"_Oh, that's a wing." His eyes widened. "Oh, _fuck."

"_Don't use such crass language with me present, Mr. Balaosm. An unregistered Animagus-a sixth year, no less? An impressive feat, but an illegal one." She lowered her wand. "What exactly are you if you have gained _wings?" _Cailan reached to the side and gently stroked his feathers._

"_Caduceus. It's...partial, I only manifested the wings." _

"_Partial?" She had an astonished tone, and her thin lips went wide. "That's a feat only a very experienced practitioner would be able to accomplish..." With a flick of her non wand-wielding hand it was suddenly a paw, wicked claws flexing in and out like great scythes. "How long have you been an Animagus?"_

"_You first." Her tight lipped expression returned._

"_Twenty six years."_

"_A year, since I started learning, give or take-I only managed a complete transformation four days ago." The expression changed once again._

"_And you're already trying to partially transform?!" She shouted, claws shooting out and paw flexing. "Are you suicidal? You could mutate yourself into a monster, have you even thought of what you could do to yourself without proper training?"_

"_I've had plenty of training. Just been self taught." Cailan said, crossing his arms. His wings flared out and he willed the spell to expand further; they grew several yards, the size he required them to be for flight. He flapped them, sending a miniature gale through the clearing. "I should get an award, or something."_

"_You should get a slap on the wrist, or at least a write up." McGonagall said, flickering her wand once more. She flipped her paw and it became a hand again. "Now, come. I'll take you to the headmaster; he'll arrange transport to the ministry for you to be sentenced." _

"_Nope." Her eyebrow twitched. _

"_You'll resist?"_

"_Two strikes." Her eyebrow twitched again._

"_T-Two strikes." She could barely contain her seething anger at being talked back to-two _strikes? _What kind of student keeps _strikes _against their professors? _

"_Yes." The wings flapped once again. "You won't take me anywhere."_

"_Try me." With a flick of her wand his legs were locked, but he stayed standing, using the tips of his wings to keep balanced. _

"_Why is it, Professor, that you come into the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night to sing? Or, screech-depending on your point of view." The question made McGonagall lower her wand a bit._

"_Because it's private." She said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world._

"_Three strikes, you lose." Cailan teased, wagging a finger with a big smirk on his face. "You come to the Forbidden Forest to sing because your singing should be _Forbidden. _It's godawful. It's horrific, demonic, I should say."_

"_You aren't going to make the situation any better by degrading a Professor, Mr. Balaosm." _

"_Yes, I am. What would you do if I told anyone that you came into a forest in the middle of the night to shriek?" _

"_..."_

"_..."_

"_Blackmail."_

"_A very effective one."_

"_You will tell no one, and you will keep your status as an Animagus a secret."_

"_But of course." The Leg-Locking curse lifted and Cailan willed the wings back into himself. They walked out of the forest in dreadful silence. _

_Flashback done! Roll around in the fun!_

As they had both stuck by their terms, they continued as a Professor and Student. Some animosity formed on McGonagall's part, some mirth on Cailan's, but they got along well enough for Cailan to pull full marks in her classes.

"If you wish to apply for Animagus training you may sign up after class on the board outside the classroom; testing for Animagus capability will happen next thursday." Her eyes flickered towards the group of Gryffindors and then towards Cailan. She spun around and they began the scheduled class; turning a bird into a fancy set of jewelry.


	6. Chapter 6

Only Cailan and McGonagall remained in the room, everyone else having left for their next class.

"You noticed." Cailan said. It wasn't a question, and they both knew what was being spoken about.

"I'm aware of Lupin's condition. The other three have only recently become Animagus. Like newborn foals." She said, sitting down at her desk. Cailan stood up and walked towards her slowly, hands clasped behind his back.

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. That's what I've heard them call each other in the hallways. I can take a guess that they're nicknames based on their newfound abilities. Pettigrew is of course Wormtail, the sneaky numbskull." McGonagall gave no opinion on that matter.

"Are you going to include them in our agreement? Push the envelope further?"

"No. I could care less if they get apprehended for being an underage practitioner, along with unregistered. I'm actually surprised you'd even ask-you know how they treat me."

"Well, as a fellow student-"

"Nope, not a good reason. I'm barely treated as a person, much less part of the student body. Do as you please..." He trailed off for a moment, then gently tapped a hand on McGonagall's desk. "Though...Lupin relies on their abilities for his time of the month. And it took him long enough to become friends with three people, who knows how long it'll take when they're gone?"

"You'd stick up for Lupin, even though he's part of the 'Marauders'?"

"Well, he's the closest I've got to a friend other than Argus. He's helped me off the ground once and doesn't hit too hard." Cailan said, shrugging. "If you want to tear apart whatever hope he has of having friendships, no matter how idiotic or barbaric those friendships are _with,_ then by all means, turn them in. I'll leave it up to you, as I have another class."

Cailan walked out of the room, leaving a groaning McGonagall to make a moral decision on her own. He had no secret passage to his next class, the only path to go through the courtyard. Down the hall and down a floor, through a door, he was crossing through the grass area with students all around, most of them staying their ground. Most. A group of Slytherin, all of them younger than him, were laughing about some horrific joke as they spotted him. Their leader was someone Cailan knew all too well; Beuerg Junous.

"Hey, it's the bookworm!" He shouted, nudging his conspirators in the ribs. They formed a little congregation following Cailan close behind. With a swing of his arm, Beuerg had wrapped a limb around Cailan's shoulders. "Little birdy, do my homework would you? It's not like you have any prior engagements or anything!"

Cailan shrugged the arm off. He was a good foot shorter than Beuerg, who was a bit over six feet. But he didn't have to loom over him to be intimidating.

"Piss off, scale-skin." Without a wand Cailan ushered forth a strong _Stupefy,_ and sent Beuerg across the courtyard. The other Slytherin went silent, as did everyone else. Their taunts became whispers of fear, and they made no move to impede his travel any further. Somehow they always forgot how powerful he was by the end of the day, and how he didn't give a damn whether or not he had points taken away for fighting back. Which was a frequent occurrence.

"Fifty points from Ravenclaw for attacking another student." Came the drawling voice of one Lucius Malfoy. Not a student any longer, but instead taking up a brief two year post as an Arithmancy Professor after his graduation, he was still the arrogant prick Cailan knew since he'd met him.

_To the past! Hope you don't get whiplash!_

_First year of school, two weeks After Filch (AF)_

"_Ravenclaw dweebs..." A simpering baritone rang through the courtyard, directed at the corner where a study group was formed. Lucius Malfoy, a third year, and already a pious moron. A brilliant wizard, but so entwined in politics and pureblood matters that he had no chance for social graces such as making friends and not making thugs. _

"_Lucius, who's that over there? With the caretaker?" One of his thuggish bodyguards asked, pointing a big stubbly finger in the direction of Cailan and Filch, in the midst of cooking up something in a cauldron. _

"_I don't know...But he's a Ravenclaw." A cruel grin appeared on his face as he marched towards the pair. Filch tossed something akin to horse radish into the bubbling mix, while Cailan stirred._

"_Six weeks till it's aired out, then we can bottle it."_

"_Thought you said _five."

"_Well your hearing's going, going, and gone, then. Sorry for the confusion." THey shared a momentary stare and then went back to toiling over the boil. _

"_What's cooking?" Lucius asked, looking into the cauldron as he got closer._

"_Draught of Dehydration." Cailan answered, not looking up. "It'll help with cleaning up liquid spills in the hallways, saps up aqueous materials and cancels them out, turns them into steam. Handy stuff." Lucius blinked at the explanation._

"_And just why are you brewing it? Surely the caretaker can take care of things by himself?" That got a hard stare from Argus, but no comment. He knew who Lucius was, and there wasn't any reason he could see to piss off a pureblooded politician. _

"_Because it's useful. Practical. No amount of wasted time in this batch, no ulterior motives other than doing a job. I've already done all my homework for the year, so why not make myself useful?"_

"_The whole-what-_year? _What are you, a sixth year?"_

"_First." A brief silence passed._

"_Well, you could always do _my _homework. Unless you'd rather sympathize with a squib?" Another hard stare from Argus, but once again, no comment. Cailan looked up from his stirring._

"_Lucius Malfoy, I am an outcaste. I do not sleep with the other Ravenclaws. I do not eat with them. I argued with the sorting hat for an hour whether I should be in Ravenclaw or Slytherin. And helping you isn't practical. I'd get nothing from it, only more pointless work from other members of your house. So, no, I won't do you homework for you. If you're as gifted as you purebloods claim, you can do it twice as good as a half-breed like me could." _

_When Lucius tried to make a comeback Cailan was already brewing once more, and thoroughly ignoring him. When Lucius pulled his wand and tried to levitate Cailan off the ground, he found himself floating instead._

"_Repulsion Charm. Have fun, Malfoy." Cailan said, helping Argus carry the cauldron elsewhere._

_Flash finish! Savior of the universe!_

"Running away, Balaosm?" Lucius sneered as Cailan reached the doors of the courtyard. The seventh year stopped and turned around.

"No. Simply heading to my classroom. Which, by the way, is yours. I have Arithmancy next, shouldn't you be there already, telling everyone to sit down?" With that, he turned back around and continued walking. Lucius stuttered for a moment before speeding after him, making a mad dash to get to his class before him.

Instead, he found himself levitating as he passed through the door.

"_Levicorpicasipus Trapeize. _Should I teach class for you, or will you figure out a counter hex before the period ends?"


	7. Chapter 7

When second period finished everyone packed their bags and left the room. Lucius hadn't shown up, and people could still hear him shouting in the courtyard, flipped upside down. His face was beet red as all the blood in his legs were going to his head. But no one bothered to help.

Cailan hadn't taught the class as he had teased. He went to the board and drew a few charts that Lucius would have drawn himself, and then went to his desk, letting everyone else decipher what he'd written on their own time. No one would listen to the outcaste, no matter how smart he was. Now, after two periods had finished, it was noon, and time for lunch.

Lunch was a curious time for Cailan, as he never did the same thing twice during the hour long eating period. Today, he decided, he would stroll around the lake. Perhaps he'd find a wild animal to practice a taming spell he'd been experimenting with. As he began his meandering he was passed, and shoved, by a familiar group of four Gryffindors. Lupin gave him a silent glance as Cailan pulled himself out of the water, shaking his sleeves and incurring a silent spell of swift drying; the water in his clothes sprayed out and he was left only slightly damp. They seemed to be moving with a purpose.

So, Cailan followed. A quick glance around assured him no one was looking and he manifested his form into that of a simple snake, shrinking himself smaller and smaller till perhaps the size of a rattler, about seven feet long. He slithered along the ground after them, melding into the shadowy undergrowth along the shore. Shouting at someone could be heard, and he sped up. Curling his spine upwards and lifting his head off the ground he could now see the object of their torment; Severus Snape.

"_Expelliarmus!"_ James shouted, and Severus' wand flew off to the side. Another shout of "Levicorpus!" and he was hoisted into the air. Cailan hissed, slithering forward and debating whether or not to bite James in the calf. He thought better, though, as he heard another person shouting, approaching from behind him-he had to roll to the side to get out of her warpath. Lily Evans was not a forced to be reckoned with when irritated.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" She cried, flicking her wand and counter cursing the spell holding Severus up in the air-he landed with a whump. Cailan had sped across the grass and now held Severus' wand in his mouth, slithering towards him. Lily continued shouting at the four, scolding them, and sending them on their way. Hell hath no fury like LIly Evans. When the Marauders had left, laughing to themselves about what a great day they were having, she turned to Severus.

Severus, who was currently reaching towards the snake who held his wand out to him. A massive black creature that seemed to ripple in and out of existence, and a hell of a lot smarter than it looked. He clutched his wand at one end and the serpent released it, tongue flicking in and out of its mouth as it slithered away. Cailan would come back in human form, he couldn't just reveal his Animagus capabilities, now could he?

"Are you alright?" Lily asked, placing a hand on Severus shoulder. He lashed out. After several harsh and unintentional words of cruelty and disgust, Lily ran away, unable to take the insults. Severus started blasting the area around him, so angry at everything, at himself, pissed off at the world and his damn temper.

"Nearly hit me with that one." A calm voice came from his left. He raised his wand and sent a _Confringo _charm towards the source, who easily sidestepped the blast. "Another close one." The tree behind Cailan exploded into a thousand pieces, splinters shooting out but neither wizard caring.

"The outcaste Ravenclaw."

"The outcaste Slytherin." The reply made Severus bare his teeth, lips curling downwards. "What are you, Severus, a fifth year?" Those lips stopped curling.

"Yes. Aren't you a seventh?"

"Indeed..." Cailan let something fall out of his sleeve. "And you're quite the genius when it comes to...stuff."

"_Expelliarmus!"_ Severus shouted. The black book remained in Cailan's grasp as he sidestepped the red flash of light just as easily as the _Confringo._ "Where did you get that?" The Slytherin hissed.

"The Half-Blood Prince. Funny, I always thought you Slytherin's were purebloods." Cailan continued nonchalantly, reading from the _Advanced Potion Making_ book in his hands. He slapped it shut. "Picked it up off the ground while you floated. This stuff in here..." He tapped the cover. "You could make your own bloody textbook. And those sidenotes? Vicious."

"So, what? Bookworm one has Bookworm two's book on Potions and Dark Arts. What are you going to do with it?" Cailan hummed a moment, then strode towards Severus, ignoring the wand nearly poking him in the forehead when he got close.

"Nothing." He held the book out, and Severus took it, lowering his wand with a very, _very_ confused expression on his face. "Odd ones out are even in their own book, Prince." Cailan held out his hand. "Call me Caduceus."


	8. Chapter 8

**Been a while since I updated this. Hope you're enjoying it.**

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The developments between the shunned Slytherin and the outcaste made rumors circulate tenfold. They were seen walking down the halls side by side. No one did that with either of them, no one at all, and yet they were, together. It's been two weeks since they've taken up the names of Prince and Caduceus.

"Caretaker lent me three of Junos Baccano's journals."

"And I suppose you've already read them all?"

"Only one of them. And that's the one I have here." Cailan reached into his sleeve and pulled out the Occlumency book. "You of course know the spell _Duplici Cogitandi_, after I taught it to you. Surely you can read it within an hour, and put it to good use."

"Protection of the mind, hmm?" Severus mused, caressing the tattered journal in his hands as they walked down the hall. He slid it into his bag with care. "I'll read it later. What about the other two?"

"The Animagus and Terramorphous journals. No clue what the last term means."

"And the foremost you already know almost everything about." The Slytherin said, quirking an eyebrow. "Terramorphous-we went over that in Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Marian."

"Oh? It wasn't included in my fifth year."

"It means an elemental man."

A silence floated on the breeze.

"I believe _that_ would be an interesting read." Cailan said, grinning like a cheshire. Severus agreed, nodding, and then turned to the door of his classroom, bidding Cailan goodbye. Cailan made his way towards his room on the third floor, having a free study period.

"Afternoon, Cailan."

"Hello, greatest." After a recitation of the limerick Cailan entered and sat down at the desk. He couldn't contain his excitement at the thought of what Terramorphous could mean to his powers. With one flip of the books cover he began the two-plane thought process once again, finishing the book in ten minutes, and then letting it pound around in his brain as he gained comprehension of the facts within. He cursed. Only an idiot would hope to become a Terramorphous; all other capabilities such as magic would be lost, along with any way to regain a human form.

Nope, he'd pass on being an elemental man.

The overpowering use of his brain made him tired, and he dragged himself over to his blanket, falling asleep after a few seconds. He dreamed once more.

_In a cave no one else has ever seen, nor knows about..._

"_Do it."_

"_No!"_

"_Do it, or I'll do it myself!" Absalom roared, slamming his fists against the ground behind Cailan. The prisoner before them both trembled at his inevitable end. Absalom leaned forward, curling his tail around Cailan's waist. "I will not be as merciful as you, Cailan." The five year old screamed, both at the burning pain around his waist and at what he had chosen to do. A flick of his wrist and a shout of _"Lentusque Infernus!" _the prisoner turned to ash, along with the chains and the stone around him. Cailan did not cry, only turn around and attempt to use the same spell upon his master. He found himself thrown across the room._

"_You dare turn your magic on your Master?" Absalom rumbled, tail flicking dangerously. "A week without food. Deal with the crystal beasts, and if you survive, I might let you get off without any broken bones." Cailan slumped against the wall, caressing his already dislocated shoulder._

"_Y-Yes, Father." The only spitting comeback Cailan could make in his current position; remind the demon across the cavern that he'd created a half-breed with a mortal woman. He found himself lashed across the room once more for his petulance. _

Cailan woke up, sweating like a fat man running a marathon. He was hyperventilating, images flashing through his head of demons and hellfire and stone and torture, the things he'd done to all the prisoners, the things he'd learned...He slapped himself across the face and forced his inner shielding to resonate once more, reassure him of his safety.

Half of the shields were broken.

Shattered, strewn about in his mind, he scraped them back together into pristine condition and set them back in their places. They'd been broken by someone invading his mind. And only one person could do that, here, at Hogwarts. The only person strong enough, a powerful enough Legilimens, would be Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of the school.

Realizations hit against Cailan so hard he felt a few mental shields break with the strain. Dumbledore knew of his heritage, of course. It'd always been odd that he'd allowed a half-demon to study at his school, but Cailan could now assume it was to gain information on the demonic caverns of Yorn, perhaps study the Ravenclaw like a lab specimen, or simply contain a possible threat to the wizarding world. All of the possibilities were infuriating. He threw the blanket off of himself and slammed the door open.

It was mid afternoon, after classes but still a time when the halls were filled with people. Dinner would be in, Cailan checked his pocket watch, two hours. He stormed through the halls, everyone pressing up against the wall when they saw the look of pure fury on his face. It was not an expression they saw very often. Cailan would get irritated, get sassy, but most of the time had an aloof, mirth-filled expression. Never, ever, had they seen him bare his teeth, lips curled down and brow furrowed, teeth grinding and his eyes flickering yellow, a sign of his demonic heritage. It was fearsome.

He didn't have to change floors, only continue straight until he reached a stone gargoyle in front of a staircase.

"Out of my way, Perdurmeus." The Gargoyle immediately flung itself out of the way at the speaking of its true name. Something Cailan had learned during his third year; Gargoyle's have names, and they can't deny orders when their name is spoken. It took some time and a great deal of effort, but Cailan eventually found Dumbledore's gargoyle's name after speaking to Nearly Headless Nick, trading a vial of goat's blood for the information.

The staircase moved on its own, but Cailan moved even faster if he kept walking, arriving at the door in less than a few seconds, and slamming his fist against it with all his strength. It swung open so fast he barely had time to get out of the way, and revealed Dumbledore sitting at his desk.

"Come in." He said, not looking up.

"Don't play the senile fool with me, Albus." Dumbledore's eyes flickered up from the papers he'd been looking at and he fixed a stare with Cailan as he entered the room.

"It's not customary to speak to a Professor with their first name, Mr. Balaosm."

"Nor is it customary to try to invade a student's mind. Care to give an explanation?" Cailan retorted, conjuring his own chair and sitting down in it a few feet from the desk. Dumbledore sighed, laying his quill down.

"You know you're coming of age, Cailan. The demon blood in you will start sparking once you've turned 17 and 7 months. The color of your eyes is already changing."

"They always change when I'm angry."

"Regardless." Dumbledore said, standing up. "I thought it best to attempt an understanding of what was going through your mind. The changes brought with your heritage will not just be physical."

"Precisely the reason I've set up barriers to prevent the changes to my mind. Barriers which you tore down in an attempt to pilfer information out of me while I slept. Truly, I understand you concerns of my father's blood within me, considering he turned your sister into a deranged lunatic-"

"Do not speak of Ariana!" Albus shouted, slamming a fist into his desk. For a few moments there was a terse silence, both Professor and Student considering cursing the other into oblivion. "Do not speak of her." Dumbledore repeated, quietly, looking away.

"My father was a demon. He possessed three children and turned your sister mad. I, however, am not an insane hellbound infernal. I have sentience beyond how to kill someone, and I try to avoid letting myself slip. I will tell you this once, and only again if you persist in your petty pursuit of proving I'm a threat to something or other; I am in control. Do not think otherwise."

Albus waved a hand, not looking in Cailan's direction. "I will not attempt to enter your mind again. Satisfied? Or shall I make a vow; will that prove my words?" He turned back to Cailan and let all his age show, slumping into his seat, slouching in his chair, wheezing as he breathed.

"I won't force such binding. I already have blackmail against the entire faculty, I don't need anything more than a promise from you." Cailan stood up, waving his chair away. He turned to leave the room but paused. "If I cannot hold the barriers, Absalom will surely find me. You'll have to deal with him. Have you-"

"I've got the feathers." Albus said, regaining his posture. "I have all seven. He won't last long if he chooses to attack."

"Good." Cailan said, turning back around. "Good." His eyes flickered around the room as he approached the door, and they settled on the cabinet to the left as he reached the threshold. "What's in there?" He asked, pointing.

"My Pensieve." Dumbledore said, already turning back to the papers on his desk. The word clicked in Cailan's mind.

"Thank you, Headmaster. I'll see you at dinner."

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	9. Chapter 9

Dinner. Cailan's fifth favorite part of the day, after his appointed reading time. He entered the great hall from a shortcut entrance, appearing behind his spot at the Ravenclaw table seemingly out of nowhere, thoroughly unsettling to his fellow house members. He sat down and poured himself a glass of orange juice, glancing up and finding Severus approaching from his own table.

"Finished reading?" Cailan asked, holding out a plate in a similar manner to doing so with Argus.

"Halfway. I'm transcribing it as well, fresh paper to make the notes easier to read, and more legible." Severus held up a second journal, opening it to reveal the notes from Junos' in more precise lettering and far more lucid writing. "I'm also adding notes of my own."

"You would." Cailan muttered under his breath. "I've got an idea."

"Does it hurt?" Severus teased. Cailan ignored him.

"Let's build a pensieve." The word turned Severus stolid.

"Memories you'd rather not have?"

"Same as you, I bet."

"Where will we put it?"

"My room." Cailan said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "No one else but us can enter the room. So, it's the perfect place."

"Argus could probably find the dish for us. I'll have to get the runes from the library-I'll leave it up to you to kill a ghost." The Slytherin stood up, not bothering to finish his meal, already murmuring things under his breath about how difficult this project would be. Cailan took his time, speculating on the possible ways to kill a ghost, and the repercussions of doing so.

The key to making a pensieve was ghost blood. It made up the preliminary fluid in the dish, a dish made of Platinum, and runed with memory enhancement, perspective, watching, maintaining, numerous markings that were so convoluted that it took years to chart them all-if you weren't a genius like Severus Snape, that is. Cailan had the hardest task that anyone could ask for.

Killing a ghost could be done a number of ways, ranging from stabbing them with a golden spear slathered with goats blood, strangling with goat intestines, bludgeoning with goat hooves...it all revolved around the goat. But the real key was the letter G. Golden, goat, ghost, all begin with G. But killing a ghost also incurred a phenomena known as 'Ethereality'. The person who kills the ghost finds their soul exits the body for three days, and is forced to watch their entire life from beginning till the point of killing the ghost until they return to their body. Most people go insane at the overpacking of information in their mind. This is why Cailan didn't want to kill a ghost.

Three weeks passed in the blink of an eye. Argus gave them the dish of platinum and helped build a pedestal to hold the pensieve when it was finished. Severus had begun etching runes, toiling until early hours of the night, spending most of those nights in Cailan's room sleeping on a stack of books against the wall when he couldn't stay awake any longer. And Cailan had prepared himself.

A golden dagger with the letter G emblazoned in the hilt soaked in goats blood. He sheathed it, blood overflowing from the leather, under his robes. Now he needed a ghost, and he knew just who to pick.

"Nick!" He called out, walking towards the floating nearly-headless ghost. The spirit turned to him.

"Ah, the outcaste Ravenclaw; you require something of me, no doubt?"

"I need you to bleed." The statement left a very, _very_ awkward silence hanging in the hallway. All the students walking around them just stared for a moment before dashing away, not wanting to see whatever happened now.

"Bleed..." Nick said, blinking. "You intend to kill me and create a pensieve, I suppose?" His face turned snarling, and he floated several feet higher. "You'll never have the chance. I won't let you touch me."

"I'm not going to kill you, only make you bleed. Then, when I've got enough, I can fix the wound."

"Fix the-what on earth are you talking about?" Nick cried, floating higher still. Cailan groaned, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few items, holding them out.

"A golden flask coated in goats blood to hold _your_ blood. A set of gauze bandages soaked in goats blood and sprinkled with gold dust to stop the bleeding. And a golden knife slathered in goats blood to cause the wound." The ghost slowly floated downwards, staring at the items presented to him.

"You...intend to only make me bleed, and not kill me."

"Yes."

"And do you have a clue as to whether this will work or not?" Nick asked, pointing to the bandages. "If those bandages don't work I'll just be spilling blood for a few hours till I croak, permanently."

"So you're willing. If it works, of course." The ghost pulled his hand back and frowned.

"I have nothing against you creating a pensieve as long as a ghost does not die for it. And as you come forth with such a solution that our kind could only _dream_ of working, I am willing to attempt it. But I'd still like assurance." Cailan sighed, stuffing the dripping bandages back into his pocket.

"Unless the veil has decided to change the terms of ghostly existence, this _will work._ So stop being such a baby and hold out a wrist. I only need enough to fill the flask, and you won't feel anything but a slight light-headedness for a few days. Come on, then." Reluctantly, and clearly uncomfortable with the situation, Nick held out a hand. Cailan brought the dagger across the vein swiftly, and Nick began groaning as wispy smoke-blood dripped into the flask like a miniature waterfall.

"God, I feel like I'm alive again. Is this what a headache feels like?" Nick asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. Cailan watched as the flask filled to a cup and a half, and then pulled out the bandages and wrapped them around the wrist.

"Keep pressure on them, and drink this." He held out a vial of goats blood. "It'll help, I think." The ghost rolled his eyes and swallowed the liquid without any fuss.

"If I die, Balaosm, I will send Unluck from the afterlife to haunt you till your demise. If I don't, I'll be telling the others of this improvement. Perhaps the creation of Pensieves will be nothing more than a headache from now on." The ghost floated off down the hall, not phasing through the walls, as that would remove the bandage. Cailan corked the flask and took off towards his room.

The limerick spoken, he entered to find Severus chiseling the last set of markings into the dish.

"I thought it was three days till Ethereality finished." The Slytherin said, not looking up.

"Well, I didn't have to kill him, so I didn't have to face the phenomena." Severus eyes snapped up and he nearly dropped the chisel.

"I'll have to ask you how you did it later. For now, wait. I only have three symbols left." Cailan walked over to the desk, gently setting the flask on the hard wood, and then placed the dagger next to it, sitting down on a stack of books to watch Severus finish his task.

Ten minutes passed and he was finished. A glow filled the room as the runes resounded, bright white light pouring out like a spotlight. It was nearly blinding, and when they peered into the dish they found the 672 runes had changed into 19 larger symbols, all around the rim of the dish. A single circle was at the bottom of the dish, glowing a faint blue.

"It's ready. Get the blood." Severus said, hefting the dish over to the pedestal and placing it in its predetermined spot in the corner of the room. Cailan retrieved the flask and uncorked it, tilting it over the dish until the liquid began pouring out, slowly filling the bowl till the edge, a clear wispy smoky liquid that wasn't quite transparent.

"And now, my dear Prince, we have created a pensieve."

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**Please review; this story continuing depends on your support!**


	10. Chapter 10

Two months had passed since the creation of the pensieve. Severus and Cailan had poured their minds in slowly, only passing the worst of their nightmares into the bowl of memories. These included but were not limited to the happening by the lake, on Severus part, and the first person he killed, for Cailan. Neither spoke of what they placed in the dish.

Cailan's birthday had been six months ago. He would be coming of age as a demonic half-breed in less than twenty days, already halfway through January. He'd already told Severus of his heritage, for he believed the Slytherin to be trustworthy enough to keep his secret.

_Backwards we go! Keep that afro!_

_"My father was a demon." The sentence was spoken as they sat under a tree by the lakeshore. It was said nonchalantly. Aloof. Like it didn't matter all that much._

_"Is that so?" Severus murmured, quirking an eyebrow. "Explains why you're so good at wandless magic." Demons, unlike wizards, required no stick to catalyze their power. Half-demon's like Cailan could use a wand to focus their energy, but it was not required. More of a limitation, however accurate the focus may be._

_"You don't mind, do you?" Cailan asked, just as nonchalant as his previous statement._

_" Both of us are still outcaste. Both half-blood in one way or another. Does it change anything?"_

_"I suppose not."_

_Finishedthepast, time to zoom past!_

"Twenty two days." Cailan said, sitting down next to Severus in the library, or what was left of it. Pince was still rebuilding the stock of books, even after seven years.

"That'll put your coming of age on the full moon. Lupin will be pleased, I bet. Maybe you can have a get together."

"I'm sure that would end _swimmingly_, Prince." They began to read through the books Severus had gathered for them. "These are all on Animagi-did you read the final journal?"

"I did. This is the part when we add our own notations to it." Severus said, not looking up.

"And you..." Cailan gestured towards the Slytherin.

"Yes. I managed a complete manifestation. I haven't managed partial transformation yet, but I'll get there soon enough."

"Practicality above all else." Cailan muttered in agreement. "So, what is it?"

"What is what?"

"Don't be stupid." Severus rolled his eyes.

"_Diaemus youngi_."

"Vampire bat? Oh, that fits you _perfectly._" Despite themselves, they shared a brief chuckle. It was even less common than Argus smiling. They spent the rest of the day in the library, skipping their classes. They were both so far ahead that it couldn't matter whether they showed up or not. That didn't stop a specific Prefect from coming down on them.

"What are you two doing here? You have classes you should be going to." Lily said, suddenly appearing in front of them. Severus froze up. He wasn't prepared to face Lily ever again, and was utterly shocked she was even talking to him after the things he'd said to her. Cailan, noticing his partner's discomfort, spoke for them both.

"Firstly, I'm a seventh year, and you have no sway over me. Pr-Severus is just as ahead in his classes as I am, meaning he's already on the next year's material. Neither of us need to show up."

"Attendance is just as important as learning the material." She was only talking to Cailan. She didn't glance towards Severus, who was slowly looking up towards her.

"Yeah, well, you're making enough noise that Pince will probably come over here and scream at the three of us any moment." Cailan said, glancing towards the librarian, who was stacking books on a shelf two aisles across. "I'd advise-_hgnh._" He suddenly jerked forward, slamming his waist against the table. "I-I'd advise-_grnt-_oh, _shit._" He slammed his fist against the table making a loud thump. Severus stood up, setting aside his fears of Lily's opinions.

"Is it starting?"

"Oh-_hgrn-_oh, yes, it's fucking _starting. _Feels like-_grah!-_somethings trying to rip my insides-_owch-_out." The flinching and twitching didn't stop. Severus forced his arm around Cailan's and dragged him out of the library, leaving his books behind, along with all the books on the table. Lily watched them go with her mouth wide open, wondering what the hell was going on. Making up her mind, she reached down and picked up Severus' bag, shoved the books back onto a random shelf, and took off after them.

They'd only made it to the staircase when Lily caught up with them.

"What's happening?" She asked from behind. Cailan was currently heaving off to the side, his breakfast coming back up. Severus sent a leer towards the Prefect.

"Nothing that concerns you." He caught sight of his bag. "Give me that." He reached out to snatch it, but found it pulled away.

"Not till you tell me why he's puking his guts out on the stairs."

_"Would you all shut up, you're so loud it's-grun!-so fucking __**loud!**_" Cailan howled, tugging Severus down the stairs with him. The Slytherin groaned, but followed, holding Cailan up and trying his best to steady the twitching figure as they made their way down to the second floor, beginning to walk down the hall.

"You have to take him to the hospital wing." Lily said, following them as they power-walked down the hall, everyone running out of their way.

"The nurse will not be able to deal with it-I can. He's told me what I need to do, and I'm going to do it. Now, _give me my bag, and get out of my sight."_ Severus hissed, arriving at Blank's painting.

"Oh, dear. It's his coming of age, isn't it?" The painting asked, shaking its head. "I won't ask for a password this time. Get in there." The portrait swung open and revealed the book filled room the pair had been sharing every few days for the past few months. Against Severus' protests Lily stalked in after them, her eyes going wide at the sight of what could be compared to the third floor library contained within the single room.

"What the hell..." She felt the object in her grasp be snatched, and Severus set it in the chair at the desk. Cailan had been laid on the floor on his blanket and was currently grunting and groaning with the internal changes happening to his body.

"Twenty two days. That's what he'd said, why in the _hell_ is it happening now!?" Severus shouted, disregarding Lily's questioning stare. He sighed, muttering curses under his breath, and ripped off his robe, for he couldn't be restricted for the next phase. Severus was lanky, a skinny bag of bones, under his robes. A pair of jeans and a plain gray t-shirt; this was what he wore every day. He walked towards Cailan and shoved the piles of books around him over, making a big wave of literature crash against the walls. "Caduceus." He said, in a low voice, pinning Cailan against the floor by the shoulders, putting a knee in his stomach. "Can you hear me?"

"It's like you're screaming in my ear." Cailan said, covering his ears with his hands. "Oversensitivity has started."

"Why is it happening now?" Cailan shook his head but Severus persisted. "I need to know. It might change the arrangements we've made, I might have to change the schedule, the ingredients in the nullification. Answer me, come on!"

"For Daedra's sake, I don't _know!"_ Cailan shouted, swinging with one fist and catching Severus in the jaw, sending him reeling backwards. The Half-Blood Prince rubbed his chin.

"Well, shit. We'll just go with what we have then, and hope for the best." He stood up, turning around to walk over to the desk, but found Lily in his way. He'd forgotten about her. "Ah-uh-shit." He managed.

"What the _hell_ is happening to Balaosm?"

"Don't call him that. He hates his last name-why am I telling you this?" Severus muttered to himself, shaking his head. He took a deep breath."Look, Evans, I know you and I aren't on the best terms after the things I said to you, but I need to do what I have to do, _right now._ So unless you want to leave, you've got to sit down and shut up. Sorry, I don't mean to be rude-oh, for heaven's sake, **get out of my **_**way**__!"_ He roared, temper getting the best of him. The girl darted out of his path as he charged towards the desk, pulling a drawer open and pulling a set of needles out.

"What're those for?"

"Don't ask questions, you'll mess me up. I haven't had much time to practice." Severus said, not bother to look at her. He reached into another drawer and pulled out a vial of a dark liquid, one that Lily assumed, by the vaguely crimson color, to be blood of some sort. He dipped needle after needle into it, and then laid them on the desk to let them dry. He turned back to Cailan. "Try to stay still." He said, approaching the boy on the ground.

Severus had gained some skills in wandless magic from Cailan. It took a lot of practice, but he could manage a few spells without having to point a stick. All of them were weak, though, and some were near useless. But one of them was perfect for this occasion. With a wave of his hand, Severus had cut the robe Cailan wore straight down the middle, and was then ripping it off of him with his bare hands. Then came the shirt and jeans, the shoes and socks, the only thing left on the body the pair of underpants.

"I don't like it just as much as you don't, Caduceus. Now, _hold still._" He repeated, retrieving the needles from the desk. With all the sanity he had left Cailan forced himself to be as still as he could, still twitching like a maniac, but not thrashing out and smacking Severus.

"What-" Lily began but then just clasped her hand over her mouth as Severus shoved one of the needles into Cailan's shoulder. "_What the hell are you doing?!"_ She shrieked. Severus ignored her, shoving another needle in the other shoulder, symmetrical to the first. He continued to do so down Cailan's torso, through the pectorals and through the abdomen, all the way down to the waistline.

"I'll get the balming agent." He muttered, standing up, leaving a bleeding and howling Cailan on the floor. Lily just stared, paralyzed at the sight of such barbaric action. She didn't even glance at Severus as he pulled another vial out of the desk. He walked back over to Cailan and then uncorked the vial, pouring a green liquid all over him. The screams only intensified as the liquid seared the skin. Another vial, and another, poured over him, all having the same horrific effect. "Now for the solvent." Severus said, coming back with one final vial and kneeling next to Cailan's head, grabbing his nose and wrenching his mouth open to pour the liquid down his throat. The screams stopped and the twitching froze. Severus continued his task as though nothing was wrong.

"Y-You killed him." Lily said, finaly regaining control of her senses. "You _killed_ him." She repeated, turning to face Severus.

"No I didn't. You're being annoying." He said, pulling one final item from the desk, from the bottom drawer. A thick blanket of pure white, emblazoned with runes that Lily didn't recognize from her classes.

"What's that for? Smothering him?" She snarled, stepping towards Severus as he moved back towards Cailan.

"No, it's the final step. And if _you_ want to kill him, go ahead and hold me back." She made no move and with one swing of his arm Severus draped the blanket over Cailan. "He'd said twenty two days till it would happen. Should have been on the full moon..." Severus muttered, wiping up the liquid around the desk that'd spilled from the vials. As he approached the trash can to toss all of Cailan's clothes into it he found Lily putting her hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her, realizing how utterly rude he'd been to her that entire time. She didn't seem to notice his expression change.

"So...what just happened?" She asked, looking back at the bundle of blood and liquid under a blanket in the center of the room, surrounded by mountains of books.

"Ah-uh-" Severus cleared his throat. "He might not want me to tell you, so I won't." The pout on Lily's face made his heart do a barrel roll. "According to his predictions he'll wake up in seven days. Talk to him then, if you want." She nodded and left the room. Severus let out a long hiss of air and sat down in the chair, watching the bundle of fabric on the floor start to twitch once again.

"Well, least I talked to her again."


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm updating the last bits of this story. So, enjoy. Please review; I've started writing a sequel but I dunno if it's worth finishing, if only three hundred people have bothered to read this, much less the, what, four people who reviewed?**

**Whatev's. **

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The days passed incredibly slowly for Lily Evans. Her every thought was directly or indirectly related to what she'd seen in Cailan's room; Severus stabbing a body with ten inch spikes covered in blood, pouring acid onto the body, and then covering it with a blanket. She'd never thought Severus could have the capacity for such...violence? Or was it something else? He seemed to do those things almost like a ritual, and the way Cailan had been screaming before whatever the Slytherin had done hinted that it might not have been in bad intention.

"Lily, you alright?" Lisandra asked, poking her best friend in the arm. She blinked.

"Huh-yeah, I'm fine."

"I don't think so; we've been saying your name for a minute and you haven't noticed." Sally quipped from the other side of her. The other two girls, Gretyl and Padme shared their sentiments.

"Is it a boy?" Padme asked, leaning forward into Lily's personal space. The faintest of pinks colored the Prefect's cheeks.

"Of course not."

"Then why're you blushing?" The pink became a bit more pronounced.

"N-No reason."

"I bet it's that James Potter. You always argue like an old couple." Lily felt the pink become a red. She'd held feelings for James for a while, but he was too much of an immature prick to act upon them. And she hadn't told anyone. But her thoughts weren't on him-they were on Cailan and Severus. The oddest pair of people in the school, the outcaste, and apparently ritualistic barbarians.

"It's not him."

"Then _who_?" Sally pried, rubbing up against Lily's shoulder.

"It's no one. I'm just really bogged down from all the homework in Arithmancy-Malfoy's a prick, you know." She stood up and left her companions grumbling amongst themselves about how Malfoy didn't actually give any homework this week. Lily just had to get away from the questions. It suddenly dawned on her that today was the seventh day.

Cailan would be waking up.

She took off like a bullet down the hall, ignoring the portraits' shouts of 'No running in the halls!' on her direct route to the second floor. She reached the painting. "Ah-hi." The man in the painting looked down at her with a piercing electric yellow stare.

"You were here when my greatest grandson came of age." She didn't know exactly what the 'coming of age' could be, though she guessed it had something to do with whatever happened seven days ago.

"Y-yeah. That's me." She didn't question the 'greatest grandson' part.

"Prince and Caduceus are inside. Knock, they'll let you in, as I doubt you know the password." Cleaing her throat, Lily stepped forward and knocked on the painting. She heard someone groan from inside, and then it swung open. Severus looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

"I haven't slept in a week." Oh. "So I'm not one for conversation. He'll be up within the hour." He walked back into the room, leaving Lily to walk in after them. The stares of the other students on the second floor were worse enough. She could only imagine the rumors that would spread of her entering the 'Lair of the Outcaste.' The books that had been shoved around were now stacked neatly up against the walls, perhaps something Severus did in an attempt to entertain himself. The bundle on the floor was thrashing around, and growling.

"Is-he OK?" Lily asked, pointing towards the bundle. Severus just shrugged, flicking his wand and conjuring a chair next to his own. Lily sat down in it after he'd taken his seat. They just watched the bundle thrash. Ten minutes passed.

"I'm sorry for saying all that to you. Seven days ago, and the months ago. By the lake." Lily blinked at the apology, glancing at Severus. His eyes were shut, and he looked rather like a raccoon with the rings under his eyes. He opened them as she was still looking at him, and revealed that his eyes were nearly red, so bloodshot and overworked. "What?"

"I-er, thank you. For apologizing-apology accepted." She managed, turning away from him. He grunted, crossing his arms in his chair, and tilting his head forward. His hair, long as it always was, was greasy, and covered his face like a drape. Another ten minutes passed.

The growling became coherent.

"Prince! Let me out of here, and take these damn needles out! God, it's like I've been burned alive and then shanked by, well, _needles_!" The shouting came as a relief to both Gryffindor and Slytherin. Severus stood up and walked over, grabbing the blanket and wrenching it off, unintentionally throwing it back at Lily, who caught it with one hand and instantly regret it-it was soaked in sweat and piss and blood. She dropped it, sticking her tongue out in disgust.

"You look different."

"You look like you could use some sleep. Get the spikes out of me, and I'll put you to bed." Lily looked up from the blanket and watched Severus yank ten inch metal needles out of Cailan-wait, _what_? She stood up, walking forward slowly, hands wringing themselves together. That wasn't Cailan any longer, not by a long shot. He'd grown a foot at least, almost as tall as Severus, and he had more than a few traits that made Lily want to hurl and look away. For instance; his skin had changed color. And the smell was terrible.

"Lily's here, by the way." Severus said nonchalantly, pulling the last of the spikes out.

"I noticed. She was examining me like a newly discovered toadstool." Cailan groaned, pulling himself off the ground and standing up, using Severus as a support until he gained control of his legs once more. His tail flickered around in the air behind him, just as his father's had. "Hmm..." He clicked his claws together. "Hadn't expected quite this much of a change."

"Did the Occlumency work?"

"I am still _me_. No amount of Absalom entered my mind, and Dumbledore used the feathers to keep him at bay. I can't even feel him approaching. I don't think he even _bothered._" His claws clicked on the floor, legs now double kneed. "Hrm. I can probably force some of the traits to recede with a bit of willpower, but I doubt I can change my skin back from gray. How's the hair?" He pulled himself off of Severus, using his own strength to stand up. "And do I feel horns on my head, or am I delusional?"

"Longer. Solid black now. And yes. You've got big ones, solid black as well."

"Oh. Pity. And what else-hey, did you shrink?"

"You got taller." Lily said from the side. "And you look like-"

"A demon." Cailan's gaze flickered towards her, his neck turning slowly to face her. "I'm half-demon." He turned back to Severus. "I can't quite remember; why is she here?"

"She was there when it started."

"Oh, yeah." He hummed a moment. "Well, I think you could use some rest, Prince. Nap time." It was his turn to hold someone up, and he slowly lowered Severus to his own pile of books, still carefully arranged to accommodate his figure. He fell asleep instantly. "Yeah, you'll probably_ sleep_ for seven days, too." Cailan muttered, clicking his claws once more. "So, Evans..." Lily froze as he turned around. The only bit of color on him were his blue boxers. "Are you going to tell anyone of my heritage?"

"No." She said immediately out of fear of what those claws would do to her if she said otherwise. The claws clicked once more.

"Good. I suppose you have questions." He moved across the room towards the broom closet and knocked. It opened and a tiny house elf poked it's head out.

"M-Mister B-Cailan?" Murgel questioned, looking up at the demonic wraith.

"Yes, sorry, Prince told you of what would be happening to me, of course." The elf nodded. "I could use some fresh clothes, two sets, for both Prince and myself. And please, if you could get a pepper up potion for him as well, he could use it." The little elf nodded and closed the door. Cailan turned back to Lily. "Well, go on. Ask away." He sat down next to her, ignoring her flinching at his tail nearly whacking her nose.

"Ah...half-demon."

"Yes. Mom's a wizard, Dad's a demon; Absalom the Infernal Patriarch. Next question." The aloof manner of Cailan's answer put Lily off, but she regained herself.

"So what just happened?"

"I came of age. My demonic heritage sprouted. I've gained an appearance akin to my father's, though I'm not on fire nor a dark crimson color nor ten stories tall. Oh, don't give me that look. I don't like being half demon as much as you don't want to be in the same room as me." Lily snapped her jaw shut.

"And...the stuff Severus did to you? The whole, uh, spike stabbing and the acid and the blanket?"

"All a part of keeping my sanity and keeping my father from finding me. He'd know where I was when I came of age. The blanket filters out his perception, but he'd still know where I was, only it would take a bit more time to know _exactly_ where. The spikes hold back specific changes. For instance, I didn't get the fully yellow eyes as my father has. See? Only the iris." Lily nodded. "The acid part...that was to prevent the red coloration. Better to be gray than smoldering. The balming agent allows me to push back some of the traits I've gained with willpower. All of it was to, basically, make my transformation a whole lot easier, safer, and less dramatic." Lily nodded once more.

"So you're half demon."

"That is the gist of the situation. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to begin forcing the changes back. These ears are_ far_ too pointy." Lily just nodded once more, and then realized he'd just made a joke.

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**Please review.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Borne of fire, borne of steel, how many tricks will your mind make real?**

**Final chapter of this story. Please, review, and I might finish up the sequel.**

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Not everything could be reversed. For instance, Cailan couldn't make himself shorter. Nor could he get rid of his second knee or his tail. His horns, however, he could force back into his skull. His eyes remained the same. His skin? He found he_ could_ change it back to its previous tone, albeit an ambient dreariness accompanied it. So, basically, he wrapped his tail around his waist and hid it under his robes, hunched, and tried to walk as normally as he could. The lattermost was easier than one would think with a little practice. He was now barely below Severus' height, who had woken up after two days of rest and several Pepper-Up potions.

The stares in the hallway only got worse. And even more terrible were some of the stairs being directed towards Lily. But, lucky for her, she had friends who backed her up, and any rumors started about her died down easily enough. James Potter had apparently started stealing glances at her. Severus was not pleased, but was content, for the moment, with Lily's acceptance of his apology. They had been friends since childhood, though that friendship had turned more into a 'met before' relationship in recent years as they drifted apart. Now they'd probably say they knew each other, in Lily's case, and a one-sided crush in Severus'.

The pair of outcaste joined with Argus for breakfast. He had a few questions about Cailan's appearance changing which were answered in hushed tones. He had no qualms about the heritage either, only saying 'not as bad as being a squib.'

A brief conversation with Dumbledore assured him of Cailan's sanity and that he could keep his new traits a secret.

Lily avoided the pair unless they happened upon each other in the hallway, where quiet greetings were muttered and lengthy conversations were kept to a minimum. But some people seemed to want a confrontation.

"Oi, Snape. I didn't know you were going out with the _worm_." Sirius teased from behind them. Ignoring the comments didn't work for long. "Do you have three ways with the caretaker?" In one swift motion Severus had his wand pointed at Sirius throat and Cailan had a pointy hand around James neck, who had been standing right next to Sirius. Cailan remembered something from months ago, and decided to act on it.

"Which one of you has the paper?" He asked, squeezing James throat a little bit. The Gryffindor seemed surprised at his strength, slapping his hand against Cailan's arm in a vain attempt to get free.

"Paper?" Lupin asked from the side. "What paper?"

"The one that folds a whole lot." Severus replied, knowing exactly what Cailan was talking about. They'd seen the group use the paper as well, and could _definitely_ remember some ink moving around on it. "Come on. Hand it over. Or would you prefer to barf slugs for a week, Black?" Audibly growling, Sirius shoved his hand into his pocket and held out a piece of paper, which Severus snatched and then examined as he and Cailan walked away, leaving two flustered, one frightened, and one thoughtful Gryffindor behind them.

"Doesn't look like anything at all."

"I'd suspect whatever is written on it is hidden...but there's probably a counter-counter on it to prevent anyone from forcing use." Cailan said as they approached his classroom. "I'll examine it and we'll figure out what to do with it after class." Severus nodded.

"See you later, Cadeucus."

Transfiguration went smoothly, consisting of turning a chair into a cheetah. Cailan completed his task and then spent the remaining time flipping the paper about in his hands. He glanced around a moment to make sure no one was looking, then invoked one of the many instinctual spells his father had forced into his mind when he was two years old.

_"Asylium Dissilumous_." His eyes flashed totally yellow for a moment and he heard words being spoken back to him. A grin creeped onto his face. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He recited, tapping a finger against the paper. It instantly began filling with swirls of color and revealed every secret within. "Messrs..."

Filch was ecstatic to finally have the paper solved. He'd confiscated it twice more in the time between mentioning it to Cailan and the present time, but was just as thrilled as he would have been on the first try. After a thorough examination he asked Cailan and Severus to modify the Marauder's Map to become the Groundskeepers' Guide, and used it to catch even _more_ people out after hours.

Of course, after several years of use, he lost it. And the Marauder's created a second map. The first was never seen again, lost in the bowels of Hogwarts forever.

_-Nearing the end of the year, the End of the Year Ball-_

"What do you plan to get up to after I'm gone?"

"Oh, I'll probably ace my tests and then find a way to employ myself here."

"You'd want to stay here?" Cailan asked, a bit surprised, glancing away from the people dancing to stare Severus in the face. "You're nuts, Prince."

"Potions are my passion, as you are already well aware. Slughorn will retire soon enough. I'll steal his post, and become Potions Master." Cailan snorted, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

"The best, I bet. Come, let us swindle someone into dancing with us. Fetch that Gryffindor you fancy." The mention of Lily made Severus both scowl and turn red at the same time.

"She's already dancing with someone. The_ Potter_ has swooned her."

"Swoon her back, then. It's not like he's any better than you. Hell, _you're_ a _Prince._ Can't top that. Come on." Cailan tugged on Severus arm, ignoring any protest and pulled him to his feet, shoving him onto the dance floor towards Lily and James. Cailan sighed, then walked towards a numerous amount of girls without dance partners; the End of the Year Ball always had some people out. Hell, there was another section for the guys without partners. He always wondered why they didn't pair up.

"Anyone care to dance?" He asked, leering over the entire group. Most of the girls stared at him like he was a monster. Which, technically, he was. But one brave first year cleared her throat and stood up, walking towards him. She held out her hand in the manner of a lady and he let out a throaty chuckle, gently kissing the back of her hand and pulling her onto the dance floor. Ah, the ignorance of eleven-year-olds. She probably didn't know who he was.

He spotted Severus dancing with Lily, and James fooling around with Lupin, doing an awkward both-men waltz, both having a hilarious time of it. Severus looked...happy. He and Lily were talking quietly as they danced, perhaps reminiscing of a better time when they weren't so far apart. Cailan, for his part, was swinging a tiny girl by the name of Tyli Toiuz around in tight circles. Her face was, quite simply, flustered and embarrassed-bright pink. Oh, if only she knew who he was.

Dumbledore gathered their attention at the end of the night as the music died down, and they all formed a large circle around him. The first year still held onto Cailan's hand, though Lily had already gone back to her group of friends. Severus looked disappointed, but not unhappy. James was still stealing glances, both at Lily and Severus, clearly irritated the Slytherin had the nerve to butt in on his chance to gain Lily's affection. He'd have plenty more chances though; they still had two years left in school.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. The year is nearly done. Tomorrow the graduation ceremony will take place, and the 1975 graduates will be leaving. I would like to take this time, however, to issue awards, that would take up hours tomorrow morning." He cleared his throat and ushered forth several Professors, who carried a few plaques each.

"Firstly, to the 'Most Outgoing' student; Mr. Albright." A round of applause echoed around the room for the seventh year. He was blushing like a chili pepper as he took the plaque. A Hufflepuff through and through, he'd made it a personal mission to be on good terms with everyone he met, except of course the Outcaste. Dumbledore continued, reading from a scroll he held with both hands.

"For perfect marks in all classes every year of attendance, though most of the classes you didn't bother going to, and demonstration magic beyond your years..." The old man's eyes flickered towards a particular half-demon. "'Most Studious' student; Mr. Balaosm."

There was no cheering, only a single loud echoing clap from one particular Slytherin. The little girl holding his hand recognized the name, obviously, and went totally silent. Oh, she knew who he was alright-just didn't know his face. What a pity. He released her hand slowly and walked forward, robes billowing around him as he reached out and gripped the plaque with one hand and shook Dumbledore's hand with the other.

"Single me out, why don't you." He hissed.

"You'd prefer to be unrecognized for academic achievement the school hasn't seen in twenty years? I won't allow it." Dumbledore replied, smiling like they weren't arguing with each other. A tight squeeze of the hand later, Cailan was walking back in the direction of Tyli. Who was gone. Dumbledore read a few more names while Cailan walked out of the hall, clutching the plaque to his side.

"Caduceus." Severus called, coming up from behind.

"Oh, Prince. Your applause leaves me blushing." Cailan said, fluttering his eyelids and waving a hand in front of his face in a mocking attempt to cool himself.

"I could see your face. You aren't going to stay for the graduation ceremony, are you?"

"...No. I'm not staying. I already graduated in private, got my diploma from Dumbledore three hours ago."

"And now you'll be leaving."

"Yes." They stopped walking, turning to face each other. No one else was around, only words for their ears would be spoken. "The room, the pensieve, the books-all yours."

"Like I have use for all those books-I've already read them all." A fleeting smile came and went on both of their faces. "Keep in touch. I'd like to rub it in your face when I become Potions Master."

"Yeah. I'll be sure to write." An awkward silence passed, and for the first time they wrapped their arms around each others shoulders in a brief, and uncomfortable, embrace. They couldn't help but break out laughing as they separated. "Remind me never to hug another person again. I don't like it."

"Tell it to me when you write."

"Yeah." With that, Cailan turned and made his way down the hall, leaving Severus behind, watching his backside exit the main gate.

* * *

**Finished. Review. **


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